


drunken sky, rembrandt's light, she's my kind of rain

by zadonis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fate, Fluff, Rain, Strangers to Lovers, i really suck at tags, she's my kind of rain, title is based off of a tim mcgraw song called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:44:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zadonis/pseuds/zadonis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl who's never expecting the rain and a boy who's always prepared. In a city this big, you never expect to see the same person on the street more than once. You first meet him on a day when the rain pours down suddenly and you’re left without an umbrella. In the end, it's always raining. And maybe that's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drunken sky, rembrandt's light, she's my kind of rain

**Author's Note:**

> based off [this tumblr post](http://smokeyziam.tumblr.com/post/99917841597/preference-425-one-direction-aus-niall-in-a)

It came on all of a sudden. The sky as a dull gray of thick clouds, and then rain was spilling from the sky like a cracked aquarium. I was caught on the street without an umbrella on possibly the worst day of the year. That morning, the weatherman had said it was a low likelihood of rain. Yet here I was at five in the afternoon with rain blowing into my face and drenching through my jacket.

I continued to trudge on because I wanted to go home and not even this torrential downpour could stop me. But other people were poking me with their umbrellas and elbows, and I was disgustingly soaked. Then the rain stopped pouring on me and I looked up.

A bright red umbrella was covering my head so I turned to my left and came face-to-face with a beautiful man. His face was lovely; his eyes shone brightly in the otherwise dull world. Dark stubble contrasted against his pale skin and the blond hair that peeked out from under his hood. “Do you want to share an umbrella with me until the rain stops?” He asked, a cute Irish lilt making his voice sound like music.

“I, uh, sure.” Dazedly, I answered, stepping further under the large umbrella. “You aren’t a freaky murderer or anything, are you?”

He grinned. “No, I’m not. I’m Niall, by the way. Niall Horan. I just walk around with an umbrella on the off chance that it’ll pour and I’ll meet a girl who was caught without one.” We moved closer to a building, out of the path of the busy sidewalk.

I laughed and rubbed at the rain dropping down my face from my hair. “Well, it’s lucky that you ran into me then.”

Niall and I stood there together, making small talk until the rain stopped, and sunshine peered through a break in the clouds. The umbrella shone over us, looking like the inside of an eyelid in early morning sunlight. As this stranger lowered the umbrella from over us, shaking it off before he closed it, he looked over at me, beautiful in the brilliant sunlight.

“It was nice talking to you.” He pushed the hood off his head, revealing golden hair with dark roots which explained the dark stubble. “I’ll forever cherish that half hour, my love.” With quite a dramatic flourish, Niall bowed and took my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it.

I giggled as I withdrew my hand from his grasp. “You’re very weird. Thanks for sharing your umbrella with me, Niall.” He nodded and stepped away. I pointed down the street, the way I’d been walking before the rainstorm. “I’m going this way; are you…?”

“Opposite direction.” He smiled. “Well, er, bye, I guess.”

“Yeah, bye.” I walked away, a bit disappointed with myself for not asking his number or anything.

If my story was normal, I would never see him again. In a city as large as this one, it was unlikely that I would run into this same beautiful stranger twice. Of course, I had no such misfortune.

One and a half weeks later, it was raining again. There were no taxis available, apparently everyone in the city already had beat me to it. Finally one pulls up to the curb and in the downpour of rain – so thick that I can’t see more than blurs – I scrabble for the door handle. As soon as I slide inside the taxi, I’m assaulted with the delightful scent of a man’s cologne.

“Hey, it’s already taken!” A thick vaguely familiar, Irish accent speaks up from the other side of the backseat. I brushed the hair out of my eyes and glanced over at the man I’d unknowingly tried to ride with.

In the dim light that filtered in through the tinted, rain covered windows, the kind Irish man sat, pressed against the door, hand clenched on the seat. His dark roots were gone and his jaw was smooth, but those unforgettably brilliant eyes were still the same.

“Hey! It’s you again!” He laughed loudly as soon as we both got a clear look at each other. “Man, it’s okay. You can go, we’re going to share this taxi.” Niall grinned over at me while patting the shoulder of the driver.

The car began moving and I told the driver my address, then I turned to Niall. “What are the odds that I’d run into you like this again?” My hair was dripping down the back of my neck and I reached around to gather it in a ponytail and pull it around to the front.

“I’m not good with statistics, but I’m sure that this is damn lucky.” His grin was so warm and bright, filling the whole inside of the cab with an aura of happiness. “How’ve you been since we last were rained on?”

“It’s been a long week, that’s for certain. Not everyone’s kind enough to offer me an umbrella in a rainstorm.” The past week had been rough. I’d been so busy with everything that I’d hardly had a chance to breathe until I was once again caught unawares in the downpour. I didn’t even have long to breathe because I was currently rushing to a friend’s house so that we could catch up after a few weeks apart.

Once again, Niall and I made small talk, he told me a funny story or five about his friends, and then the taxi was slowing to a stop. “This is your stop, miss.” The driver mumbled, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

I dug in my purse to get my money, but before I could pull it out, Niall’s calloused hand stopped my wrist. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.” His warm thumb rubbed over the soft skin of my wrist. “You’re going to be late for you friend. I’ve got it, really.” I nodded, murmuring my thanks. “It was nice seeing you against.” His voice slipped out the door behind me right before I closed it hurriedly in my mad rush through the rain.

Two times is an oddity, but meeting the same person randomly on the city streets three times, well - as the saying goes – three times is fate (or something like that). The third time I met Niall I was about to scream because how many times could I possibly be caught off guard by the rain? I’d ducked into an alcove, watching headlights flash by, reflecting off raindrops outside my little safe spot.

And then someone ducked into the alcove with me.

“Somehow I knew it would be you.” Niall laughed and pushed off the hood, shaking his head so that water drops flew from the tips of his hair.

“It’s not supposed to rain! Every time I leave the house, I check the weather report. Everytime I’ve met you, it’s been raining but the weather man has said that it’s unlikely going to rain. So either he needs to be fired, or the universe has got it in for me.”

Niall leaned against the wall, batting his lovely eyes at me. “Or the universe is trying to tell you something. Want to come back to my place? Not like, uh, not that way, but like, to get out of the rain. My place is just a block away.” He rubbed the back of his neck but that did nothing to help the embarrassed pink tinge of his cheeks.

“Yeah, sounds good. I just want out of the rain.”

We ran the next block through the rain and by the time that Niall was pushing open his door, we were both drenched to the skin.

“Fair warning, my mate Harry lives with me, and he’ll probably be back soon.” Niall said as he held open the door for me.

Stepping foot into the home, I sighed. The wooden floors had a dark finish, the walls were a warm red, and there was a fire burning in the fireplace directly across the flat from the door. Music was blaring through the place and there was a tall half-naked brunette boy dancing in the middle of the open room.

“Looks like he might already be home.” Niall whispered to me as he closed the door. “Harry! Put some clothes on, would you?” The other boy abruptly stopped his dancing to stare at us and then, in the blink of an eye, a devilish grin appeared on his lips and he disappeared from view, down a hallway to what I assumed was his bedroom. “Sorry about him. He’s a recovering nudist.”

Like that was a normal thing.

“Do you want to change into something dry?” He asked, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Who knows how long it’ll rain for; you don’t want to be sitting around in those damp clothes, right?” I was too busy looking around to give him an actual answer, but I nodded my head yes and that was answer enough because he shuffled off down the same hall as Harry.

The kitchenette filled the left corner of the room, just a small fridge, oven, and a sink. All the rest of the room was sofas and a large tv, the fireplace and a foosball table. Resting at the foot of one of the sofas was a beat up old guitar.

“Niall, do you play?” I called as I walked over to the instrument. It felt odd in my hands mostly because I’ve not held a guitar in years. When Niall returned a moment later with a pair of sweats and a tshirt, he took the old wooden instrument gently, caressing it like it was his baby. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He looked up from the guitar, eyes wide and happy. “Yeah, I’ve played for a few years. It’s my favorite thing in the world.” He set it down on the floor, passing the clothes over to me. “You can go change into these in there.” He pointed to a nearly closed doorway that turned out to be the bathroom. “I’ll put your clothes in the dryer when you come back out.”

The sweatpants smelled like apples and were soft against my skin; they reached down several inches past my ankles, but I rolled them up so that I wasn’t mopping the floor with the bottoms of these sweats. I twisted my hair up into a bun and pushed the bathroom door open with my foot.

Niall was standing in the kitchen, messing around on with the stovetop, and Harry was sitting back on one of the sofas with a shirt and some basketball shorts on. They’d turned the music off, but the TV was now playing a ridiculous show about a bunch of teens.

“Do you want something to eat?” Niall asked over his shoulder, his accent and the voices from the TV muffling his words. “Haz, put her clothes in the machine, yeah?” The other boy grumbled a bit but stood quickly and took my clothes with a pretty smile and a sparkle in his green eyes.

A pair of windows flanked the massive stone fireplace and both of them were showing that it was still pouring outside; drops raced down the window panes like it was a marathon. Niall was cooking us some dinner and Harry was lounging on the couch, going between watching the show and watching me fidgeting on the other end of the sofa he was on.

When the food was done and Niall deposited a plate on each of our laps, Harry turned to his flatmate. “So this is the one you’ve been telling me about? Rain Girl? Babe, he’s told me so much about you.”

I glanced over at Niall just to find that his face was burning pink as he focused on his plate, picking at the food with a fork. “Shut up, Harry. I just mentioned meeting you twice, not like a lot, really.” Niall reassured me.

The devilish grin reappeared on the other boys face. “Right, you only told me, and the other lads, and I’m almost certain that I heard you drunkenly telling the bartender the other night. _She’s beautiful, so beautiful.”_ Harry slurred in what I assumed was meant to be an imitation of the Irish one across the room.

“Hey!” A pillow came flying, smacking into Harry’s laughing face, knocking him sideways. “Shut up, Harry.” The growl that left Niall’s throat caused me to look over at him, the laughter dying on my lips.

I stood up and moved over to him. Harry was still chuckling to himself as I settled down beside Niall, leaning close enough so that only he would be able to hear my whispered question. “Did you really say that stuff? Do you think I’m beautiful?”

“Maybe.” His cheeks were flaming hot when I reached up a hand to lightly press my fingers to his skin.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re kind of beautiful too. In the manly way, of course.” The smile easily curved my lips and my face heated as his eyes met mine.

A few feet away, Harry fell into a new bout of laughter, rolling off the cushions in the process.

We stayed like that for a few more hours, waiting for the downpour to slow to a drizzle. By the time it finally stopped altogether, it was late afternoon, the clouds were giving way to a pale shade of periwinkle.

Harry retired to his own room for a nap, and Niall took my hand and pulled me up to the rooftop of their building.

“I bet this is where you bring all the girls, right?” I teased as he held open the door for me. “Bring ‘em up here for a fun time?” I poked at his shoulder and he wiggled away, wrinkling his nose at me and dragging me up through the open doorway.

“You’re the first person I’ve brought up here besides the lads.” He fit his fingers through mine and closed the rooftop door, shutting us up onto the top of the building.

The city was still buzzing around us, and the air was cool and damp despite the lack of rain. Niall kept me rooted there in that spot with his hand wrapped around mine, warm and solid and rough against my soft palm.

*

Two weeks later, we met up at a café. After that evening that I spent with him on the rooftop, I ended up staying the night, in his bed. We only slept, but we were so tangled up in each other that when I woke up the next morning, I had a hard time feeling where my body ended and his began. At the front door, he asked me out on a date and gave me his number. The plans were made.

Neither of us were free until that day and the first place I could think of was the café on the corner that marked the halfway point between both of our places.

The sky was overcast when I got there, an umbrella tucked under my arm, and my phone pressed to my ear with Niall promising me that he was nearly there. I took a seat at one of the table outside under the awning. Taxis were honking by in blurs of yellow, pedestrians chatting loudly on the sidewalk nearby, and the coffee in front of me was sending swirls of steam into the chilled autumn air.

A minute later, Niall arrived, all bright sunshine and laughter, he dropped into the seat across from me, reaching for my hand immediately.

A second later the rain came pouring down, pattering on the candy-striped awning overhead


End file.
